High Hopes
by teamginger
Summary: Pam goes missing, and Jim turns into an emotional wreck.
1. Chapter 1

A knock on the door stirred Jim from his thoughts. Reluctantly, he rose from the couch. He wore a stained t-shirt and an old pair of jeans. His hair fell in front of his eyes, in desperate need of a trim at least. His face was covered in coarse stubble. His breath smelled of alcohol, and his eyes were puffy and red from the lack of sleep.

He opened the door, just a crack, to see who it was. To his disappointment, it was only Oscar. For the past few weeks, he had been stopping by to check up on him. It was a kind offer, but Jim did not want to be looked after.

"Hey Jim," Oscar said in a hopeful voice.

"Hey," Jim grunted, opening the door for him to come in. Oscar stepped into the house, looking around. He had only been over a couple times, and seemed mortified by the unkempt state it was in. Jim settled back down on the couch, waiting for something, anything, to happen.

"Jim... Have you been drinking?" Oscar asked. The empty bottles of past liquor that were piled on the table were a dead give away.

"A little bit," Jim replied, glancing at the table. Oscar was picking up bottles, tucking them under his arms to carry them away. "You don't have to do that."

"I know, but you won't," Oscar argued with a light laugh. "How long has it been?"

"Six months, two weeks, four days," Jim said immediately.

"Are you going to do anything about it?" Oscar asked.

_"I've done everything I can for her,"_ Jim shouted angrily before he could consider his answer. Oscar looked alarmed by his tone, but proceeded to place the empty bottles into the garbage. "Sorry," he muttered, though he was not really.

"Jim, you quit your job... You're not doing anything by just sitting here. Maybe you should go out and look for her, because we both know that you won't rest until you see her," Oscar suggested lightly, walking back into the living room. "You're sitting here pitying yourself. I've done it myself, and trust me, it isn't a rational solution. You need to keep your mind occupied, and since all you care about is Pam, go look for her."

Jim considered this. For the first month or so, he spent every spare second on the phone with the police. Soon, he found it impossible to balance work calls and police calls. He chose to hold off the police calls until after work. That lasted for about a week, and then he started becoming anxious at work. He forced back his work calls to make room for updates from the police. His sales went down, and at that point, he had stopped caring. He quit his job, to which David Wallace told him that he would be welcomed back when he found Pam. That was about three months ago. He was draining his bank account, just accepting the fact that he'd be broke, and then completely hopeless.

"I will," Jim said, standing up. "I'm going to look for her."

"In that state? You've got to be kidding," Oscar scoffed. Jim looked down at the stains on his previously white t-shirt as though he had just noticed them. With an exaggerated sigh, he shuffled up the stairs to take a shower.

He changed into a clean pair of jeans and a different t-shirt. When he returned to the living room, Oscar had left, leaving a short note on the coffee table. It read:

_Jim,_

_Good luck finding Pam. I've gone home._

_Oscar._

The writing was somehow neater than Jim had expected. He crumpled the note and tossed it into the garbage. For the first time in months, he felt genuinely hopeful. He walked out of the house, not bothering to even lock the door.

As soon as he reached the end of the driveway, the slight hope that he felt inside was diminished. After six months, she could be anywhere. The possibility of her running away on purpose came to mind. As much as Jim tried to push away the thought, trying to believe that it wasn't possible, the thought stuck there.


	2. Chapter 2

_Jim and Pam walked up to the house after going out for dinner. Pam was exhausted and stressed from planning the wedding, and Jim, as usual, wasn't in the mood to make supper. The house was pitch black, and dead silent. It was eleven o'clock. Obviously they had tried to leave the restaurant earlier, but the people they were having supper with refused to end their conversation. Finally, it occurred to them that they had to work the following morning, so everyone left abruptly after that._

_Jim returned to the bedroom after going to the washroom. Pam was sitting on the edge of the bed, her hands folded on her lap. Jim sat beside her, placing his arm over her shoulders. The only light in the room came from the little lamp on the bedside table, which gave off a dull, yellowish glow to the room._

_"Hey, you okay?" Jim asked, rubbing her back smoothly. She leaned into him, letting out a soft exhale. Jim rested his head on hers._

_"I'm alright, just tired," Pam said quietly, resting her head on Jim's shoulder. Jim kissed her hair gently. _

_They went to bed, and the next morning, Pam was gone without a trace._


	3. Chapter 3

Jim looked back at the house. The lawn was overgrown. The garden desperately needed water. It was like no one lived there. If he went back into the house, nothing would happen. He would continue living in self pity, forcing down alcohol just for the feeling of the liquid burning down his throat.

The sky was getting dark, but Jim did not care. He was in for another sleepless night anyways. He set towards downtown Scranton. He knew that the police had already searched there, but it had to be a decent start. He walked along the sidewalk, checking in alleys and in the windows of shops. It dawned on him, the reality of his situation. The fact that Pam could literally be anywhere, and he did not even have a hint as to where she was.

The number of people on the streets was declining gradually as he reached the edge of town. Past the end of the street, there was a park, and then the city ended. Jim approached the trees hesitantly. The police had not searched it yet, despite Jim's suggestion to. It was dark now. He did not have a flashlight, or even his phone if he needed it. The darkness of the forest was intimidating, but he needed to find Pam. He walked until he became engulfed by the forest.

After about half an hour with no luck, Jim's legs were burning with fatigue. He could hardly see three feet ahead of him. He desperately wanted to just lay down and to sleep.

"Pam!" he shouted weakly, though he knew it was pointless. There was no way she'd be able to hear him. There was no response, as he had expected. Feeling defeated, he turned around and walked back in the direction he thought he had come from.

An hour passed, and he was not any closer to the edge of the forest. It was just as dark as before, and the trees all looked the same, but he felt disoriented and couldn't tell left from right. There was no sign of the trees thinning out. He wondered if this was how Pam felt. As he looked at the trees surrounding him, he realized that he was lost.


	4. Chapter 4

A few days had passed. He continued searching, with little luck. Most days, he would walk until he could not see, then sit down and eventually fall asleep. One day, while he was walking, a little flash of colour caught his eye. A piece of torn pink fabric clung to the branch of a tree. Hope flared inside of him like a wildfire.

"Pam!" he yelled, his voice cracking from lack of water. There was no response. He looked around, praying for another sign of her. It was getting darker already, but he did not care. With every step he took, he became more and more need to make sure she was safe was overwhelming.

Lights moved around the forest behind Jim. He knew it was the police. They finally decided to search the forest as well. They could not know he was here. They would force him to go back, to let them do their job. They did not understand.

Jim broke into a run, breaking off the 'path' he had been following for weeks. Branches slapped him, leaving small scrapes on his grimy skin, but he did not care. His legs burned with pain, threatening to give out at any given second.

Suddenly, his foot caught on a root, sending him flying forward. He met the ground with a heavy thud. There was a moment of dizzying pain, which faded along with his consciousness.


	5. Chapter 5

_Six months, three weeks, two days._

Pam was a mess. She had not eaten for days. She was living off stream water. Her arms and knees were scraped and bruised. Her hair was matted and greasy, but also the least of her problems.

The sun filtered through the leaves, casting dappled light onto the forest floor. Pam was sick of the same forest scenery. The same trees, the same endlessness, the same smells. She had long since given up on trying to find a way out. Life would go on for everyone else. Her days were numbered. She just didn't matter anymore. She was as good as dead now.

With a sigh, she sat down against the trunk of a tree. The fabric of her shirt caught on the rough bark of the tree, tearing. Pam scowled, but there was nothing she could do about it. She stared into the depths of the forest, trying to imagine the trees clearing themselves to make a path back to Scranton. Just as she could see the edge of the trees, she drifted into a well-needed sleep.

When she awoke, it was much darker, and colder. Pam wrapped her arms around herself and stood up. There were often coyotes in this area. She started walking, but there wasn't really any purpose to her stride. If coyotes came after her, she wouldn't be able to fight them.

She heard a series of steady footsteps up the hill, as well as the low murmurs of men. A wave of varying emotions rose within her all at once. Suddenly, all that mattered was getting to those people.

As she grew closer to the top of the hill, she could see lights moving amongst the trees. Adrenaline was pumping through her veins like a coursing river. She hardly noticed the heavy thud somewhere uphill until she saw the outline of the body. She forced herself to pause for a moment. What if the people she was chasing were murderers? Would she be shot down? Raped at gunpoint?

Based entirely on the fact that she hadn't heard a gunshot, she continued following the people, breaking into a jog, then into a run.

"Well, it's getting late," said one of the men. Suddenly, Pam starved to know what time it was. "We should head back. We're not going to find her here."

_"Wait!"_ Pam shouted, her voice echoing through the trees. The men turned towards her, their faces narrowing as they tried to see her from where they stood. Pam ran towards them.

"Who are you?"

"Are you from Scranton?" Pam asked, between heavy breaths. "No, it doesn't matter. Help me get out of here, please."

"We're looking for a person named Pam Beesly, have you seen her?" asked the shortest of the three men, earning a slap from the guy next to him.

"_That's_ Pam, dumbass," he grumbled, shoving past his co-worker. "We're from the Scranton Police Department, and we've come to get you home."


	6. Chapter 6

The policemen guided Pam out of the forest with apparent ease, as though they knew the area like the back of their hands. When they emerged, the sky was dark with ominous clouds that threatened to pour at any given moment.

"We need to know," said the policeman, whose name was Brent. "How did you end up in Nay Aug Park?"

Pam thought back to the incident, her body tensing at the memory alone. She drew a shaky breath and began to explain the story.

_Pam walked from the driveway to the front door of the house that she shared with Jim. Her heels clicked on the pavement as her pace quickened, wanting to get out of the cold. They had just come back from supper which, though lovely, had gone on for hours._

_"I need to go to the washroom so bad," Jim announced once he closed the front door behind himself._

_"That's great babe," Pam called, walking down the hall to her bedroom. She checked the voicemail on her phone. There was one message from an unknown caller._

_"Meet me at Farley's. As soon as you can get away unnoticed. Don't bring anything or anyone. If you decline, you will be shot," said the voice. Pam set the phone down stiffly, like a toy with dying batteries. She felt a hand on her back and tried not to jump. She turned her head to see Jim._

_"Hey, you okay?" Jim asked. Pam's mind was screaming at her to tell him about the phone message. To call the police._

_Instead, she forced down her fears like a large pill and said, "I'm alright, just tired". She leaned into Jim, taking in everything, because she knew damn well that it could be the last time she would ever see him._

_She waited until he was soundly sleeping, then tip-toed out of the house, wearing her pajamas and a pair of sneakers._

_The man was tall and burly, with a grip that could shatter diamonds. He forced her into a silver sports car, with a gun in his hand just in case his grip failed him. He told her to remain silent, and failure to do so would result in being shot. While driving through Nay Aug Park, Pam jumped out of the moving vehicle, and ran into the depths of the forest, never seeing the man again. _


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: Sorry about the short chapters. I'll try and make the next one a bit longer. **

Pam walked up to the house, eyeing the state of the front yard. What had Jim been doing while she was gone? She approached the door apprehensively. As soon as she passed through the door, her whole life would fall back into place. To think that only hours ago, she was ready to die.

She was surprised to find that the door was unlocked. She shut the door quietly, remembering that it was midnight, and that Jim was probably sleeping. She looked around the house. She had spent countless days in it, yet it felt so unfamiliar. The shag carpet still covered the living room floor, which inexplicably smelt of liquor. The creepy clown painting was still hung on the wall.

As she continued walking, she passed the bathroom. She desperately needed a shower. She wanted to go in there, and scrub away the seven months she had been missing, but she knew that Jim was just around the corner.

She opened the bedroom door slowly, tip-toeing in, just as she had tip-toed out that night. A smile spread across her face as she approached the bed, but it faded just as quickly as it had came.

"Jim?" she called into the darkness, but there was no response.


	8. Chapter 8

Pam finally walked into the bathroom, turning on the shower. She stripped from her torn, filthy pajamas, leaving them in a crumpled heap on the floor as she stepped into the hot water. It was like all of her troubles went down the drain with the grimy water.

When she came out of the shower, her pale skin was pink and smelled like grapefruits, and her hair was no longer greasy or matted. The cuts and bruises didn't sting so badly anymore, except for a rather nasty gash on her lower leg that she had somehow forgotten about.

She changed into a fresh pair of pajamas, carrying the old ones to the kitchen garbage. A piece of crumpled paper lay on the floor next to the garbage. Pam bent down to pick it up, unfolding the paper.

_Jim,_

_Good luck finding Pam. I've gone home._

_Oscar._

The realization hit her almost like she had run into a brick wall. Jim had gone into the forest to find her. She thought back to the body sliding down the ravine. Had that been Jim? Was he dead? She had to know. She grabbed the nearest phone, dialling 911.

"911, please state your emergency," said the cheerful voice on the other side.

"Hi, it's Pam Beesly. I called about my missing fiance, but I might know where he is," she said quickly. She was then redirected to the policeman she had been speaking with earlier and explained the situation to him.

"We'll have a look in the morning. Thank you for your help."

Feeling slightly disappointed, she set the phone down. Looking around the kitchen, she recalled the last time she ate, which was a week ago when she had found a wild raspberry bush. She opened the fridge. Most of the food had expired, or didn't appeal to her. She decided a granola bar that was sitting on the counter, amongst what looked like a million dishes.

Eager to keep her mind busy, she loaded as many dishes as she could into the dishwasher, even though questions continued to burst into her head. How long had Jim been in the forest? Was he hurt? Had he brought anyone with him?

Finding only slight comfort in the dull rumble of the dishwasher, Pam decided to try and get some rest, with little success.


	9. Chapter 9

The next day, Pam was flooded with phone calls. Word had gotten out that she was home, and everyone was relieved, until they realized that now Jim was missing. The emptiness she felt now was nothing compared to the agonizing loneliness and fear that she felt in the forest.

Sunlight poured in from her bedroom window, where she lay in bed, holding the house phone close to her chest, waiting desperately for the call from the police. Her heart hammered against her chest, seeming to rattle her brain inside her skull. The phone rang again, and her heart seemed to stop altogether as she flipped it around to read the number on the screen. Disappointed, but surprised, it was Roy Anderson.

"Hello?" she said meekly.

"Hey Pam, it's Roy! Welcome back!" he greeted cheerfully.

"Thanks," Pam said, sitting up a bit.

"I heard about Jim. I know I can't fill the void, and I know you don't have any feelings for me anymore, but, uh, if you need a place to stay until they find him, you could hang out here if you'd like," he offered, choosing his words carefully.

"They sent out a search party an hour ago. I'll let you know if anything comes up," Pam said, hanging up the phone abruptly.

Pam settled back against the soft pillows. The whole room smelled like Jim, the pillows, the sheets, even the air itself. Wriggling out from the blankets that had tangled around her, Pam walked to the dresser that they shared, and opened Jim's drawer. She pulled out a grey, baggy t-shirt that he only ever wore around the house because of how baggy it was, even on him. She pulled it over her tank top and shorts. It nearly fell to her knees, but was soft and comfortable, and smelled like Jim.

The doorbell rang down the hall. Crossing her arms as though she were cradling herself, Pam walked across the cold wooden floor. Standing behind the door and opening it just a crack so she could see out, but the person on the other side couldn't see in. To her surprise, to was Oscar.

"Oscar, what are you doing here?" she asked, opening the door a little wider.

"Pam? You're back!" Oscar exclaimed, a grin spreading across his face.

"Yeah, the police brought me back last night," Pam said, somewhat cheerfully. Oscar's smile weakened slightly.

"Wait, so Jim didn't find you then?" Oscar asked, making Pam remember the note that he had left. Pam just shook her head.

"No, he hasn't come back, and he left his cell phone here. The police are looking for him," Pam explained quickly, becoming slightly hysterical. "How long has he been gone?"

"It'll have been about a week," Oscar said grimly, scuffing his shoe on her doorstep. Pam looked down at her bare toes. Her toenails were torn and bloody, her feet scraped and sore.

The phone rang in the bedroom. Pam's heart skipped again.

"I have to answer this, make yourself at home!" Pam said as she rushed to the bedroom to answer the phone, her heart pounding. She didn't even bother to check the number, she was so anxious.

"Hello?"

"This is the Scranton Police Department; we've found Jim."

"You have?" Pam exclaimed incredulously. A wave of emotions crashed upon her, and she couldn't hide her grin, even when Oscar walked in.

"Yes, but I should warn you, he's in pretty rough shape," the officer reported grimly.

"Is he okay?"

"Well... Jim is in a coma."


End file.
